


J-pop and AC/DC

by beyondcrystyle



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-22
Updated: 2017-01-01
Packaged: 2018-09-11 02:43:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8950774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beyondcrystyle/pseuds/beyondcrystyle
Summary: Dean, despite being a quiet collage boy content with his group of friends, is somewhat curious about three people he keeps on passing by every day in life.The first is a cyclist; the only way Dean could identify her was if he was out in the morning in his car taking the morning shift at the Roadhouse.The second was a girl who took the same bus as Dean (if fuel prices were high, which they always were) whom never felt any humiliation, judging by the way she always seemed to love to sing under her breath to whatever she listened to. He was always just far away to hear something, but never exactly what.The last wasn't exactly a person, really. It could be a family, it could be an old man, it could be a group of rowdy fellow-collage boys (or girls, you never quite know). Dean was talking about the house neighbouring the Winchester's house; he had never seen anyone step outside, but sometimes late in the afternoons or over the weekends, loud music vibrated from the supposedly empty-home.Dean doesn't know how to approach these people.





	1. Part 1.a

**Author's Note:**

> Remember: **pre-slansh**  
>  Gonna update every monday if i remember.
> 
> # please turn on author's skin
> 
> Key at the end of the story
> 
> Awww YEAHHH I have a tumblr with the same username hit me up with asks i'm happy to answer other than that imma meme/kpop blog feel free to follow

### Part O N E - ACCADACCA

  


  


**D EAN ALMOST FELL OFF HIS CHAIR WHEN THE FIRST BELL STRUCK.**

For a near second, Dean thought he was back in high school.

Once Dean had finished coughing up the straw he nearly chocked on, he realised the bells weren't stopping. And... was a guitar joining in? Dean blinks confusedly as familiar strumming vibrated in the air.

AC/DC's _Hell's Bells_ had begun to play from the house Dean swore no one lived in since at _least_ 5 years ago.

Dean's lived in this house all his life, and played with Jo from across the street all his childhood, and vaguely remembers babysitting the children next to Jo before they were content to stay inside. On the right of Dean was the empty house - well, Dean was pretty sure it was empty until now - a gigantic, white two story house with a very light green roof sitting quietly on the mountain side.

Dean doesn't have a problem with the music, of course, appreciating the music choice as the sound system smoothly delivers the rest of the _Back in Black_ album, the incredibly good speakers echoing off the steep slope to the empty space above the roofs of the suburb. There's no real obvious reason why the music is so loud, there's no gathering of cars, no treacherous laughter, no sign of a ridiculous party. And it was 4pm, who even started a party at this time?

Dean can't do anything but sit back and do his work. It's at a level that it almost feels like Dean himself put it on in his room. And who can hate a classic like AC/DC? Once the album is finished, there's a few seconds of empty air resting over everything, and then - boom, Dire Straits is kicking up a beat. Whoever had the music playing has _good_ music (but don't tell Sam he was dancing along with Bon Jovi seconds before he came home)

It takes Dean a few weeks to notice a pattern; it's always after 4, and it goes on until 6 or 7, sometimes 8pm on weekdays. On weekends, it starts whenever and as time marches past 8pm, the music softens until Dean can't tell it's there, let alone what's playing. On top of this... schedule, the head-banger always, and Dean _means_ always, tests the sound system's speakers (and possibly the streets and neighbouring streets' patience) when it comes around to the older folks, such as Guns 'N' Roses, Icehouse, INXS, ABBA, and a fairly unknown artist called The Radiators. Dean would conclude 'old person' if it wasn't his very simular taste in music.

Dean doesn't care about the music very much, just vaguely bobbing his head (and other bodily limbs) to the music whenever it switches on. He's just very, very, very curious to why he's never seen someone slide out onto the veranda or take the bins out. Now that he knows there's at least _one_ person living there, Dean notices the bins are out for bin day and their mail box is stuffed full every other day - and then suddenly, it's not.

He's considered asking around about them, but Dean doesn't want to look like a fool or a stalker, so he sucks it up and tries to kill the rising curiousness.


	2. Part 1.b

**A S A COLLAGE STUDENT, DEAN NEEDS MONEY, A SENTENCE SHARED BY EVERYONE IN HIS CLASSES.**

Dean takes two jobs at once, a day job at his Uncle Bobby's garage and he's frequently signing up for the graveyard shift in the Roadhouse his Aunt Ellen had owned since forever. As much as the money is pouring in, he wants to save for the future and the eventual collage payoff-horrors. That meant while Dean could drive his car (a 1967 Chevy Impala, thank you very much. He restored it himself) to and fro from work, Dean knew he had to cut down on fuel usage.

So that meant any other time Dean isn't wanted at work, he takes the bus or car pools with other people. But he prefers to car pool with Jo and her mother over taking the public bus. Not because Dean's a germ freak. Now where would you get that idea?

However, that only lasts until the second month. While Jo and Dean shared the same subjects last year, they'd both chosen different paths from there onwards. This meant their timetable was absolutely different and Dean sometimes had to ride to collage to get there. After all, he's not going to sucker up to Joe and ask if she could take him to collage, would he? No, he'd rather have his pride.

But riding meant a bike. And the Winchester family weren't invested in cycling, preferring the smooth engines over the slower, awkward cousins. In conclusion? Dean rides a very crappy, rusty mountain bike that takes forever to get _anywhere_ , and it breaks. Every. Single. Week. So what does that _also_ mean? Dean has to take the fuckin' bus. _Great._

(Ew)

(x100)

So in week four of the first term, Dean gathers his laptop, bag and food and walks down to the station that would take him to the collage. There's a bus every hour, so Dean would always have some spare time before class - unlike the times he went with Joe or rode. He still has nightmares of the times he showed up on the skin of his teeth. Sometimes he hates that he lives so close to the town's collage. If he lived on-campus, then he wouldn't need to do anything like _car pool_ or _ride_.

The second Dean steps onto the bus, he feels like he's being attacked from every angle. From the bus driver, to the gum sticking on the floor, to the cushioned seats. Not to mention the noisy-as-fuck teenagers yelling at each other over the music in their ears. Dean prefers headphones over earbuds, as when he does use the smaller, tiny speakers his ears start to hurt not long after.

Other than the school kids, there's a single-mum clutching her baby's pram for dear life and a wrinkly old Asian lady practically sitting on top of the distressed mother. Other people dotted the area, and Dean realises with a sinking heart is that there's no vacant rows. Dean will have to sit next to someone during the whole 10 minutes it takes to get to collage.

His eyes quickly analyse all the people with a spare seat next to them; 10 people are cut out in one go when he sees them taking up two seats at once. During high school Dean _always_ had to sit next to one of those people; his face was met with an elbow every other ride. It leaves 3 potential people left. One is gone when he hears the obnoxious pop of bubble gum, and the other was too close to the teenagers right up the back.

There, right in front of him, bag already moved since Dean stood at the entrance to the bus too busy occupied with sweeping the bus to really notice, was a blond-going-brown-going-black ~~woman~~ _lady_ (she just seemed to _ooze_ maturity) with a shirt adorned with  Anatsu Kyoushitsu in bright, bold Japanese letters over a - was that a yellow _octopus_ with _clothes?!_ It was then Dean spotted the anime characters flanking the strange creature and suddenly the world made sense. All was good; it was only anime.

Dean politely smiles at the ~~strange~~ lady and settles in the seat. Once she's shot the impulsive smile, she turns back to the window and stares out, fascinated by the passing vegetation and vehicles.

He thinks, _that's that,_ and turns to clutch at his bag, willing his back to not hit the rear of the seat, where people were _certain_ to shove their rubbish down the back. He shakes with the effort to not knock the lady with his sweaty knees and probably disgust her to hell and back.

_It was only 10 minutes,_ Dean chants in his head as the driver throws the long vehicle around the right angle corner. It would probably be better if the bus driver had better skills than this. _It. Was. Only. 10. Minutes._

(He tried to not think about the ride _back._ )

Desperate for a conversation, Dean turns to the lady and opens his mouth to talk - and no sound comes out.

The lady has headphones on, no problem, Dean grew up with friends that always had them in and he knew to just ignore them when chatting, but she's mouthing the words. She's also bouncing around on the seat, bobbing up and down, and while her arms are flailing around, Dean notices that no limbs come even _near_ him. Okay, she's defiantly a _strange_ lady, for _sure_. Just a little more mature-looking than normal.

The words she's mouthing are lost on him. Dean can't understand a _word_ she's saying, well, the little pieces she actually _does_ say out loud. It might be another language? Dean doesn't know, but it's kinda entertaining, so Dean doesn't look for another seat. Besides, she's not bothering him, is she?

Watching her, the way she gets excited for a new song, nearly yelling the lyrics if she didn't make a sound and the more exaggerated movement around what Dean guesses to be the chorus, he's left scrambling for his bag when glances out the window and notices it's his bus stop they're grinding to a halt at. Dean almost turns to the lady to say goodbye, but then he remembers that he doesn't even know her _name_ , why should he even say something like that? So Dean leaves without saying anything to the music lady.

**Author's Note:**

> #### key
> 
> This is a text bubble incoming.
> 
> This is a text bubble outgoing.
> 
> There will be a picture before any incoming text. It is a picture of the sender, as Dean uses Facebook messenger, or a popular social website messenger that most people use their face as icons. Except Charlie; she has Hermione as her icon.
> 
> If you see this type of text hover your mouse over it.


End file.
